


Close Call

by comeheredarlingg



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Enemies to Friends, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sort of enemies to friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28582776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comeheredarlingg/pseuds/comeheredarlingg
Summary: Tim Shepard finds himself face to face with Dallas Winston once again.
Relationships: Tim Shepard/Dallas Winston
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Close Call

Tim Shepard liked to think that he could never be surprised by this dusty town; he had found himself in the slammer more times than he cared to remember and seen just about everything while running the Shepard outfit. Yet, if there was one person who could boast about his rap sheet being longer than Tim’s, it would be Dallas Winston. God knows when Dallas Winston had a chance to bring it up, he did. It was a source of pride, a badge of honor the blonde carried with him, and he could never let Tim Shepard hear the last of it.

If there was one thing Tim could predict with the wild hood from New York, it would be that Dallas was ready for a fight no matter what. Sometimes Tim was on the receiving end of his anger or even fighting alongside him. One thing he knew for sure, though, was that Dallas would pick a fight with just about anyone. That person just happened to be the youngest Shepard boy taunting him in the DX parking lot. Dallas would have no problem knocking some sense into Curly and god knows that Tim would love for him to sometimes, but he still ran towards the two boys, knowing he’d hear an earful from Curly later about stepping in. 

“Hey! Winston, I didn’t peg you to be stupid enough to pick a fight with my brother. Not after that run-in you had with the pigs last month, or are you itching to go back to the slammer already?” Tim glared as he arrived to see the two boys squared up and facing each other. “And you, go back home and get away from him.” He directed his gaze to Curly who was already sulking off. Tim rolled his eyes, another second too late and he would’ve had to pummel Winston for landing a fist on his brother. Not that Curly probably didn’t deserve it, but family is family.

Dallas glowered at Curly’s slowly retreating form, but he lowered his fists and shoved them angrily in his worn leather jacket, “Caught him trying to make a move on my gir-” 

“You’ve been gone a month, Dally. If you think she wouldn’t have moved on by now, you really are just as dumb as I thought.” Tim smirked at the red tinge growing on Dallas’s cheeks. The hood rarely gave any indication he was embarrassed to be told off, but this time it must have hit a sore spot. 

Tim knew that Curly was probably just messing around; he found it hard to believe that Sylvia would even give Curly a second glance, but rumors were enough to set Dallas off. Common sense would eventually win over, but Dallas was riled up and the wild look in his eyes seemed to burn into Tim’s. He glanced over to Curly, who was slowly making his way to further his distance. Tim knew that Dallas wasn’t looking to get sent back for another thirty days for a petty fight. He sighed internally, knowing he would have to talk to Curly about provoking Dallas. His kid brother needed to learn a lesson about poking the bear; Dallas had no restraint. If anything, Dallas was theatrical —although he would beat Tim into the asphalt for saying that— and he liked to pull off a stunt before being thrown in the back of a cruiser with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Watch your fucking mouth, Tim,” Dally bit back as he closed in on the distance between the two of them. “You know I could take on your whole gang if I had to.”

Tim scoffed, but Dallas was all talk; if there was anything Tim would ever publicly concede to, it was that Dallas could talk your ear off. He knew that Dallas was just nursing his bruised ego, being talked out of a fight by none other than a Shepard, but Tim didn’t feel like arguing back. Dallas could talk all he wanted but the only problem was: his fists could probably back up anything he had to say. He bragged about his exploits and petty crimes and no one dared to challenge him; a skeptic could probably go to the county jail and look up how he did indeed throw kids off their bicycles. 

It was no surprise for anyone to learn that Dally had a hair-trigger temper and a penchant for fistfighting. 

“Yeah right, Dal, let it go,” Tim scoffed. “You’re all talk, and I heard they took your blade and never gave it back.” He wasn’t sure if what he heard was true, but Dallas liked to keep a switchblade on him at all times so it wasn’t hard to imagine it would be the first thing the cops took away. Tim didn’t want to fight him, a sentiment he would rather die than voice out loud, but at the end of the day Dallas could throw some decent punches and it was not beneath him to pull a knife on anyone. Tim could find mutual respect for where Dallas was coming from; deep down he knew Dallas wasn’t bad. Coming back from the slammer was rough no matter how many times they’ve both done it before, so he understood the sense of control Dallas craved after missing a month of action. Not that there was much to do. Besides an occasional gang fight, Tulsa must’ve been pretty tame compared to the stories he’d heard Dallas tell about the big city. Besides, the kid didn’t hold any grudges or Tim would have found himself face down on the sidewalk with a bloody nose by now.

“Fuck off, Tim” Dallas didn’t seem angry anymore; his stupid cocky smirk was plastered on his face. Tim opened his mouth to get the last word in but instead, he let out an annoyed sigh as he looked around to find that Curly was long gone and he had been left alone with Winston. There was just a brief moment of silence as the two boys glanced around. The tension in the air had dissipated into an awkward silence. 

  
  


Tim found himself wondering why they were still standing face to face, when Dallas broke the silence, speaking casually as if he were discussing the weather: “You know what Tim, I want to put this behind us”

“Oh, you mean when you almost tried to beat up my brother? My fifteen-year-old _kid_ brother?”

“Yeah, it’s all water behind the bridge or whatever they say.”

“Under the bridge,” Tim muttered quietly. 

Dallas continued on without missing a beat. “You know the Curtis kid, right? He and Curly are pretty close, I bet.”

“Yeah, caught those idiots burning cigarette holes into each other.” 

“Uh-huh, those socs have been giving him some trouble lately.” Dallas carried on twirling the switchblade he’d pocketed earlier. He grinned at Tim, holding the handle of the blade out to him, almost like a peace offering of sorts. The argument from minutes ago was completely forgotten and his eyes seem to shine with the thought of letting out some anger on a couple of socs. Dallas was wildly unpredictable, but at the same time, reliable— when there was a fight to be picked, Tim would bet money that Dallas would be there for it.

Dallas smirked, “You want to go slash some tires? I hear he drives a real nice car, too. Imagine his surprise.”

**Author's Note:**

> hehehe i would love feedback it's been a while since I've posted any writing but also thank you to ted for proofreading and advice <33


End file.
